


how to fall out of love with your leader

by hangyulgod



Category: Pentagon (Korea Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Character Study, Jealousy, M/M, Mutual Pining, Not Actually Unrequited Love, POV Second Person, Unrequited Love, Vertigo (1958) References, attempt at character study, fake deep, not a y/n fic i promise, pov: ur shinwon n ur in love with hui, thank you lorrie moore, very fake deep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:14:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26792713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hangyulgod/pseuds/hangyulgod
Summary: First, realize that you’re kind of in love with him. There’s something about the way his eyes crinkle up into crescent moons and twinkle in the dark when he looks at you that makes your heartbeat go a little quicker, and you feel kind of nervous. Think to yourself, “Fuck, I think I’m kind of in love.”orWhere Shinwon falls in love.
Relationships: Ko Shinwon/Lee Hwitaek | Hui
Comments: 13
Kudos: 47





	how to fall out of love with your leader

**Author's Note:**

> might be a little bit weird but ITS NOT A Y/N FIC!!!!
> 
> anyways ive been doing lorrie moore's [short story](http://www.sfuadcnf.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/11/How-to-Become-a-Writer-Lorrie-Moore.pdf) in literature class and it did smth to me so i wrote this thing lol
> 
> cw // mentions of smoking don't read if it bothers u but it's not really too important 
> 
> thank you nao for beta-reading!!!  
> oh and btw english isn't my first language so be nice or i'll cry>:(

First, realize that you’re kind of in love with him one night when you’re sitting with him in his studio, keeping him company as he works on a song he’s writing for a new boy group, and you’re sleepy and your eyes are heavy. You can’t fall out of love with someone unless you’re aware that you’re in love with them, after all. At one point of the night, when you’re about to fall asleep and you’re vulnerable to dangerous emotions (e.g. love), he turns to look at you. There’s something about the way his eyes crinkle up into crescent moons and twinkle in the dark when he looks at you that makes your heartbeat go a little quicker, and you feel kind of nervous. Think to yourself,  _ “Fuck, I think I’m kind of in love.” _

Keep yourself awake until it’s three in the morning. Toss and turn in your bed because you’ve just watched a video on Youtube a fan made about how you and him always bicker, and it makes you feel kind of jittery and weird on the inside. Try to distract yourself by clicking on another video. It turns out to be a compilation of him acting cute. Hate your life even more and turn your phone off. Groan a little bit, because it’s three in the morning and Hongseok is asleep and Hyunggu is asleep and he is not home and no one will hear you. You can’t do that when they are awake, when he’s home. He is sensitive in his sleep and wakes up to any sound. 

Your phone rings. Look at it, it’s him. Let it ring for all but two seconds, before picking up. Say, pretending to be annoyed, “What is it, hyung?”

He says, “Shinwon-ah, come to my studio. I wrote a song.”

Groan again, but this time make sure he hears it. Act coy and drag out your syllables when you say, “But, hyung— it’s three in the morning.”

“Come anyway. You don’t sound like you’re going to sleep anytime soon,” he tells you. Get defensive and mutter under your breath but make sure he can still hear you loud and clear, “I was planning to if you didn’t call.”

Get out of bed anyway. Pull on your gray hoodie, the one he said that looks good on you. Put the hood over your head to cover your freshly dyed hair, realize it isn’t enough and put it back down again. Wear a cap, the yellow one that’s lying on your dresser, over your head and then put the hood over it. 

He whines a little bit, tells you to stop complaining and come by. Make him promise to buy you coffee the next morning. He calls you a brat affectionately, but will buy you anything if you ask anyway (at this point, however, you don’t know it yet. Or, alternatively, you do but you like to think that you don’t). Say, still sounding annoyed, “Got it, hyung. I’m coming.”

He cheers and says thank you, but, still, ignore him and click off the call. You don’t want him to think that you’ll do everything he asks you to, even if it’s the truth. Put on your mask, tiptoe to the front door. Toe on the shoes that he got you, the Balenciagas he surprised you with two birthdays ago, when you were sulky because your song didn’t get on the album and it seemed like no one remembered your birthday, and head out. Be sure not to close the door too loudly, you don’t want to wake up Hongseok and Hyunggu. 

Walk to the company. It’s kind of cold but the hoodie is warm enough. Take your time, and stop at the convenience store to get him a sandwich because you’re pretty sure he hasn’t eaten anything in a while. Go up to the fifth floor of the company, where his studio is, and knock on his door before entering. Toss him his sandwich and ignore the grateful look he gives you. Tell him to play you the song, plop yourself onto his couch as you do so.

He laughs a little, soft and warm. He calls you a brat again, plays you the song he has been working on. When the song ends he turns to look at you with hopeful eyes, and your heart beats a little quicker again. He asks you, “How was it?”

Tell him, genuinely this time because you never joke around when it comes to music,  _ his _ music, “Sounds good, hyung.”

He smiles at you again. Sit with him in the studio for a while before he turns his computer off, stands up and drags you up with him.

Ask tiredly, “Why?” It’s been a while since he gave you the call, you’ve lost track of time but you know that you’re sleep-soft and dreary.

“Come with me, let’s go to the rooftop,” he says, reaching for something you can’t quite see on his desk. He shoves it into the pocket of his windbreaker. 

“Why?” Complain, but follow him anyway. Never be too pliant when it comes to him, don’t let him know how you feel. 

He shrugs, “Just felt like it. Come on.”

Follow him. You take the stairs, and he sits next to you on the floor, overlooking the view in front of you. Your phone tells you that it’s 5:04 in the morning. It is still dark out but the city is already bustling, and the street lights look like stars from faraway. He takes out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, then a stupid expensive lighter.

Frown. Ask disapprovingly, “Hyung, why are you smoking again?” 

He shrugs pensively, takes a cigarette (always menthol and never regular because he hates the smell and the taste of pure tobacco) out from the pack and lights it up with his stupid expensive lighter. He takes a long drag. Smoke rings flow from his mouth and your eyes go a little blurry. It smells like mint and tobacco, and it hazes your decision-making abilities a little. Huff a little bit, hold out a hand. Say indignantly, “Give me one of those, too, then.”

Ignore the weird look he gives you. Carefully hold the cigarette between your index and middle finger, let him light it up with his stupid expensive lighter. Take a drag, too. It makes you choke a little bit. Tears threaten to fall, but don’t let them. You’ve always hated the smell and taste of tobacco, and while you actually like mint, they mix in a wrong way and it makes you feel like gagging in disgust. But don’t let him see your disgust, take another drag.

When you can’t hold your cough in anymore, let it out. Smoke comes out of your mouth and it’s warm against your face. He laughs at you tenderly, “You don’t have to smoke if you don’t want to, Shinwon-ah. Smoking isn’t good for you.”

Let him take the cigarette between your fingers and watch him put it out for you, even if it’s barely smoked and very new. He throws it away, and nudges you a little.

“Hey, look. The sun is rising.”

Look. The sun  _ is  _ rising. Dawn breaks as you two sit side by side. Watch the sunrise with him. And, when he isn’t looking, watch him too.

Catch him on Favorite Entertainment. Watch every episode. Turn on MBC right when the show is about to start, so you don’t miss anything. Watching him be happy without you makes the hollow in your chest hurt a little bit, but sit in front of the TV until the episode is over every Saturday anyway. He hasn’t been home for a while, so maybe you can pretend that he’s finally here (with you) when he’s on the TV, all bright eyes and wide smiles. Watch it with Hongseok, because one of your (old) roommates had left the dorms a long time ago and is never coming back, Hyunggu is always away in his studio or hanging out with Wooseok and Yuto, and the person you love so much is never at home, so that leaves Hongseok as your only option. Curl up on the couch with him. Take a sip of your cola as the show starts, pretend that you care more about the soda than you care about the man on the TV. The living room is messy and there’s stuff everywhere, behind you and in front of you and next to you, but no one ever gets mad about it enough for them to clean it up and it’s cozy so you make do. 

Feel yourself burn up with anger and jealousy, your eyes seeing red and green at the same time, when he takes care of Hyungseok, the member who had never danced in his life and is struggling with his placement in the group, because it reminds you of how you were when you started out as a trainee and how he used to do (still does) so to you, but don’t make it obvious, just frown a little, take a long sip of your cola. Laugh, half annoyed and half amused, when he calls his members in Superfive  _ “jagi”,  _ because it shouldn’t bother you too much but it does anyway.  _ You should be happy that he’s happy,  _ a voice in your brain tells you snidely,  _ I thought you loved him. _

_ Yes, but it hurts to see him happy without me,  _ think back to the voice in your head. Begrudgingly admit (to yourself and not to Hongseok) that you miss him. And when Hongseok turns to you during the commercial break and comments offhandedly that “they seem to like Hui-hyung a lot”, laugh again. 

Tell Hongseok, half serious and half joking, “Doesn’t everyone?”

Hongseok laughs at that. He laughs at everything you say, he thinks you are funny but he even laughs at  _ Changgu’s  _ jokes so you’re not so sure about that anymore. He agrees with you and turns his head back to the TV. The conversation is over.

His trot group releases two songs, and they go on music shows to promote. Turn on MBC again right on time for the music show, sit in front of the TV until their debut stages air. After the show is over and the stages are uploaded on Naver for the rest of the world to see, rewatch it on your phone and take a shitty screenshot of his close-up shot. Upload it on Ucube, with a caption that’s complimenting him. Realize that it’s too genuine and you don’t want him to see that, change up the caption to something about how you wish that he can be more like the man in the picture, that “Gochujang-nim” can join the team, even if they are the same person. Post it and read through comments of fans laughing at your joke. When he finally sees the post, two day later, he calls you a brat again. You are in his studio, he is working on some song he has been writing for ages. Stick out your tongue and smile at him. When he reaches out to smack you on the shoulder, grab his hand before he can. Call him “Gochujang-nim” sweetly, ask him if he likes Superfive better than he likes Pentagon (subtext: you). 

He will pause for a moment, look at you seriously. Then, he will tell you, face straight, lacing your hands together with his, that “you’re more important than anyone else.”

When he does that, laugh nervously. Try and pull away your hand with feigned disgust. He lets you. Ignore the hint of disappointment that flashes on his face. Ask, because you wouldn’t have the courage to when you’re not joking around, “Pentagon, or me?” 

He huffs a little bit, his face goes pink and he tells you that he’s not repeating that and turns back to his computer. Stay silent and keep him company until he leaves the studio. 

(Here’s an extra thing you can do: When it’s late at night and you can’t sleep again, chew over his words. Convince yourself that he meant Pentagon, that he cares about everyone else just as much. Ignore the small voice in your head that suggests that he might love you back, because you’re scared of being let down if you get your hopes up.)

Go watch his musical. But, before you go to his, watch Changgu’s first with Hyunggu and Wooseok so that it seems like you’re more of a supportive member than a boy who’s smitten with his leader. And you  _ are  _ a supportive member, so no one raises an eyebrow. Enjoy Changgu’s show. It’s his first musical and he’s nervous but he does very well. Eunkwang is there too, he also does very well but he does everything very well. Laugh until there’s tears in your eyes, post a picture of the three of you at Changgu’s musical on twitter and praise him and the other actors.  _ Then _ you can think about watching his musical.

The show you’re supposed to gets cancelled. He tells you through a Kakaotalk message, attached with a frowny face emoticon  _ and  _ a sticker of Ryan from Kakao Friends crying. It’s almost too cute for you to handle. Reply that you’re sorry it got cancelled, and make a promise that you’ll definitely go to another show, because you genuinely wanted to go see him. He replies with a cute happy emoticon. Leave him on read. Decide that it’s probably rude to do so, send an emoticon back five minutes after. Freak out about whether he’d find the delayed text back weird. Decide that you don’t care.

Go to the other show he gave you tickets for. Hongseok and Yuto go with you. Meet him backstage, he’s in his costume, clipping on his suspenders, his freshly dyed black hair slicked back. He is gone for a moment in the dressing room when you see his Superfive members, who are there to support him too. You don’t know any of them, minus Myungjun who’s also an idol, but you are used to calling him  _ sunbaenim _ and he is older than you so even with him you are awkward. It’s Myungjun who recognises the three of you, standing around awkwardly backstage. Greet them politely with a bow. Hongseok and Yuto do too. Stand awkwardly with them, across each other. Recognise every single member, because you’ve spent all the past Saturdays watching their show — Myungjun, who you already know, Hyukjin, Jinwook, and Hyungseok, who you’ve been mad over. Feel a slight — just slight — sense of shame wash over you. Say, “I am a huge fan. I watched every broadcast.”

Hongseok perks up next to you and chimes in, “He did. Every Saturday night he sits in front of the TV and watches every second of the show.”

Laugh along. Myungjun, being the nice guy he is, comments that you’re a supportive member. You are, but that’s not the reason you insist on watching every show. Grin at him and make a joke, “I forgot to add that you are my favorite member. I watched the first episode for Hui-hyung, but I stayed for you.”

Myungjun laughs loudly at that, his smile bright and his eyes are narrowed into two happy slits. That’s the time when he comes back out from the dressing room, now fully ready for the show, casually looping his arm with yours. Pretend not to notice, lean into his touch just slightly. He asks, “What are you all laughing about?” 

Quip, “It’s a secret between me and MJ-sunbaenim.” He narrows his eyes at you, calls you a brat again but a warm smile breaks through his face as he beams up at you. Myungjun laughs and asks you to call him hyung. You do.

He introduces everyone to each other. When he starts to introduce you, he turns to smile at you, then he says proudly, “This is Shinwonie, he is my dongsaeng.”

Scoff, “Almost everyone here is your dongsaeng, hyung.”

He feigns annoyance, “I know that, Shinwon-ah. Am I not allowed to say that?”

Shrug. Look at your new acquaintances and bow again. When you all leave to take a seat, wish him good luck for his show. He beams up at you again, pats you once on the arm before he turns away. 

The musical is good, just like how you imagine it to be. Cry a little bit when a particular sad scene comes up, marvel at how he is just such a natural at everything even if it’s his first musical. When the show is over, stand up to clap for him during curtain call. You’re sitting in the front, he sees you and your eyes meet for a split second. Smile at him. He can’t see you clearly because it’s dark but he smiles just a little bit wider, maybe at you, maybe at the audience, as he takes his last bow.

Take a picture with Hongseok in the theatre and post it on twitter. When his last show is over, download the poster of the musical, go on Ucube and type up a message to praise him. Decide that it’s too sentimental, leave the compliments in but let it end with the name of Changgu’s musical instead, even if you’re clearly not talking about it. The fans will find it funny. Leave another comment telling your fans to go watch Changgu’s musical, there’s still a few shows left, after all.

When he sees it he takes a screenshot and sends it to you through Kakaotalk, attached with a sad emoticon. You know that he’s joking and you know that he knows that you’re joking. He asks you how you found the musical. Tell him you loved it, that you would watch it again if you had the chance. He sends you a cute emoticon back, and your heart skips a beat. 

Write a song. You have many demos of songs with no words on your phone and in his computer, the ones you worked together on. Pen the lyrics yourself. Write about love and falling in love and the joys of being in love and the pains of being in love and falling out of love and falling and hurt and dizziness. Make it all about him. Work on it when you’re in his studio with him again, because you’ve got nothing to do anyways.

Curl up on his couch writing the lyrics, the lyricless song you settled on playing in your ears. Count the syllables, make sure everything sounds good in your head. At one point, he turns to you and peers at you curiously, “What are you doing?”

Look up at him. Hide your phone from his view, say, “Nothing. Just, like, lyrics for a song.”

He raises an eyebrow, leans in to see your screen, “Show me.”

Shake your head and turn the screen the other way so he doesn’t see it, “Not yet. I’ll show you when it’s done.”

He huffs, “Okay, then.” 

When you’re done with the lyrics, and you’ve double-triple-quadruple-checked it to make sure that everything goes well, print out the score with the lyrics. Thrust it at him when he’s starting to save a file, say, “Can you sing the guide for me?”

He squints at the paper, crumpled up by your nervous hands, and takes it. He scans over the lyrics, blinks, looks up at you. There’s something in his eyes that you can’t quite understand, and he pauses for all but two seconds like he’s trying to gather the words, before he finally, with some difficulty, asks, “Did— did you write the lyrics?”

Shrug nonchalantly, “Yeah, guess I did.”

He swallows thickly, looks at you again, “What inspired it?”

_ “You, idiot,”  _ think to yourself bitterly, but shrug again. Tell him, “I watched an old movie.”

“Which one?”

Say, “You wouldn’t know.” It’s not entirely a lie that an old movie inspired the lyrics — think about the movie about a man who’s afraid of heights you watched a couple months ago when you were curled up in your bed browsing on Netflix, still coming to terms with the fact that you might be in love. It’s an old movie and it’s kind of boring, but it taunts you until this day, tells you that you might be afraid of falling too.

(Remember the time you went bungee jumping with him and Hyunggu. You looked down on the edge and it made you dizzy and you were so, so scared of falling. He was watching you and you wanted to make him proud but you just couldn’t do it. He had hugged you then, or maybe you reached out to him first, and told you that it was okay if you didn’t jump. So you didn’t. Maybe you were always scared of falling.)

He looks at you again. His eyes are still sparkling with something you don’t quite understand. He nods, “Okay. I’ll sing the guide.”

You sit next to him as he does. He keeps messing up, fumbling with his words and his voice cracks in notes that he usually does perfectly. Sigh and turn the song off. He frowns and clears his throat, “Sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me today.”

“Maybe your condition just isn’t that good today,” Suggest offhandedly, and turn to him with an assuring smile, “It’s okay, hyung. You can do it again another day.”

He frowns, still clearly upset. Reach out and hold his hand in yours, squeeze it once and pull away, “It’s okay, hyung. Really.”

He takes your hand in his again, “I’m sorry, Shinwon-ah.”

Wave it off, chuckle nervously because his palm is warm and it’s burning against the back of your hand, “It really isn’t a big deal, hyung. Everyone has one of those days.”

He nods again, offers to go back to the dorms. You do. That night, fall asleep even if you’re not all that tired. The thought of him is heavy in your mind, so don’t get surprised when you dream of him. Try to remember every blurry trace of him in your dreams the very next morning. 

It’s a week later when he tells you that he has something for you. Ask what it is. He tells you that it’s a secret. Go to his studio. He plays you the guide of your song, the one you wrote with him in mind. It sounds perfect, just like how you wanted it to go in your head. And, when you listen to it again, realize that it’s almost like he understands what you truly meant in the lyrics. 

Blink. Try to not let the tears fall. Say, “It— It’s perfect, hyung. Just like how I wanted it to be.”

He beams up at you, but that sparkle of something in his eyes again, “I’m glad to hear that, Shinwonie.”

Exchange a look with him. His eyes light up even more, and the next thing you know he is reaching out to pull you into a hug, his head against your chest. Hug him back, wonder if he can hear your heartbeat that’s thumping loud and fast, threatening to leap out.

Hang out with Hongseok. You like to annoy him because he always gives the best reactions but at the end of the day he’s fun to be with, he takes you to the nicest restaurants with the best coffee and he is always looking out for you. He is observant and can almost always tell when something’s wrong with you, but he’s never not gentle when he prods and you enjoy his company. He was going to bring you to a coffee shop in Hongdae (“they have really good handcrafted hamburgers, you’d love it”) but it is raining so heavily so you cancel your plans. He suggests ordering takeout, he knows a place with really nice waffles. You do and you sit in the living room of your dorm, the cream from the waffles smearing the corners of your mouths. 

You’re busy trying to fit half a waffle into your mouth when Hongseok suddenly says out of the blue, “You know that Hui-hyung loves you a lot, right?”

Blink. Put down the waffle, swallow the mouthful you’re chewing. Ignore how fast your heart is thumping and the ringing in your ears, loud and heavy like the bass drums he likes to use in his songs, and say nonchalantly, “He loves everyone a lot.”

Hongseok gives you a long look. Gulp and add, but really you’re trying to convince  _ yourself  _ more than you’re trying to convince him, “He loves you. And Yuto and Hyunggu and Wooseokie. And Changgu. Yananie. Jinho-hyung.” 

And, like an afterthought, conclude wistfully, “Hui-hyung has a big heart, you know.”

“You know that’s not what I mean,” Hongseok says, almost frustrated. “Surely you’d know that by now. He loves you.”

Insist, “Of course he does. He’s a good leader, he loves every one of us.” Thoughts are running in your head at billions of miles per second and you can’t think clearly, the ringing in your ears are so loud you can barely hear Hongseok’s exasperated sigh.

“You’re the densest person I’ve ever met,” he says. 

Snap defensively, “I’m not dense.” Watch as Hongseok softens, reaching out to pat you on the knee.

“Okay, okay, you’re not,” he says, a gentle smile settling in on his face, “But, Shinwon—”

Go back to your waffle, pretend to be unaffected, “Yeah?” 

“Don’t deny yourself from what you want, okay? You deserve to be happy. And I know Hui-hyung makes you happier than anyone ever can,” Hongseok says, and there’s something in his eyes, sympathy, maybe, “He loves you, and you love him too.”

Mutter, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” (Hint: you do.) Hongseok sees it as the cue to drop the conversation so he does, not before giving you another long, meaningful look. 

Something inside you crumbles.

Go to dance practice the next day. You’re preparing for your comeback, but you keep messing up the choreography because your conversation with Hongseok is constantly playing in your head like a broken record, or like the annoying jingle of a snack commercial from when you were young. Yanan has just come back to Korea after a year of hiatus and you probably have done a lot more dancing than he did in the past year but even  _ he  _ is doing better than you are. Apologise when you stumble over your feet to everyone. When Hyunggu gets frustrated with you, tell him that you’re sorry.

Try and focus. Don’t get too discouraged when you trip over your feet. Yuto comes closer and gives you a side hug, telling you to cheer up sweetly with a hushed whisper. Smile (or, try to smile) at him as a response. Hongseok calls for a break and pulls you aside.

“What’s wrong?” he asks you, frowning a little bit. “Are you not feeling well?”

Shrug. Say, “Yeah, kind of. But I’ll manage.”

He furrows his brows and gives you a concerned look. Get back to practice. This time it’s  _ him _ who gets upset at you when you can’t catch up with the team, limbs tangled into one big mess.

“Shinwon-ah, what is wrong with you today?” he says harshly, his features etched into one big frown, “You aren’t normally like this.”

Gulp. It’s scary when he gets angry at you because he almost never does so, you’re so used to his gentle eyes and gentle touches and gentle smiles that him getting angry at you makes you cower from him a little. He has always been a good leader and knows his priorities, so tell yourself not to take it personally. Hongseok steps in, a hand on your arm.

“Shinwonie isn’t feeling very well today, hyung,” he says, “Should we take another break again?”

Catch his eyes linger on Hongseok’s hand on your arm, watch him furrow his brows even more. He sighs, “Fine. Sit down and get yourself together, Shinwon-ah.”

Try to smile at him even if it turns out like you’re baring your teeth at him. Grab your water bottle and down half of your water. Some of it drips down to your white shirt and it clings to you, wet and ice-cold against your skin. Sit down on the bench, pull your knees up to your chest and bury your head into your knees. Sigh heavily. Try not to cry.

Someone (Hongseok, maybe) pats your shoulder comfortingly. Ignore it. After a while you hear the soft padding of feet that’s coming to your direction, and a familiar hand grabs yours. It’s him.

He laces your fingers together, in the way that makes your ears ring and your heart beat quicker, and squeezes your hand. Look up to meet his concerned eyes.

“What’s wrong, Shinwonie?” His voice is a lot softer, vastly different from when he was borderline-yelling at you, but he is still frowning. Shift a bit and try to pull your hand away. 

Tell him, “I just feel a bit icky today, I guess.” Don’t tell him that your mind is too occupied with him for you to function and focus on what you’re doing now, make a face like you’re sick so it comes out more convincing.

He frowns even more, but he keeps a tight grip on your hand, “I’m sorry I yelled at you earlier.”

Smile reassuringly and tell him that you understand. Apologise for messing up constantly.

He shakes his head, “No. I should’ve known you weren’t feeling well.” He hesitates for a second before bringing your joined hands closer, presses a kiss onto your wrist. 

Freeze. Pull your hand away, watch how his face falls. His lips were warm against your cold skin and your skin is sticky with his lip balm, and you can still feel him on your skin, right on your pulse point. Exhale shakily, mutter, “Don’t— don’t do that.”

He frowns again and his lips turn downwards, “I’m sorry if it made you uncomfortable, Shinwon.”

Shake your head fervently because it didn’t make you uncomfortable, it’s just that you liked too much that it’s dangerous. Keep your voice low, “No, it’s fine. Just— just don’t do it if it doesn’t mean anything.”

Confusion washes over his face, “Of course it meant something, Shinwon-ah.”

Tell him that you don’t understand because you really don’t. Notice how everyone is looking at you now, clear your throat and sigh.

The same sparkle flickers in his eyes. He lets out a frustrated noise from the back of his throat, and he says, “You’re so stupid, Ko Shinwon.”

Say defensively, “Why are you suddenly insulting me?”

He stares at you but doesn’t answer. He sighs again, his hands reaching out to cup your face. He leans down and then the next thing you know his lips are on yours but he doesn’t linger and it’s gone as soon as you come to the fact that  _ he kissed you.  _ Blink, because that’s all you can do. He’s still inches away. Your lips are tingling and you can almost taste his lip balm, sweet with a hint of cherry and cool with a lot of mint (like his menthol cigarettes), and  _ oh my god, he kissed you.  _

Clear your throat. He is looking at you intently and there’s a hint of desperation behind his pretty brown eyes, “Do you understand now?” 

Purse your lips, and think. Maybe you do. Everyone is looking at you two now. Hyunggu and Wooseok and Yuto are looking between each other nervously. Yanan looks confused. Changgu is standing there, wide-eyed and shocked. Hongseok looks at you knowingly. It gets too much and the weight of his lips is almost too heavy for you to handle. Stand up with a thud. His face falls even more, but he backs away. Wipe at your lips frantically, mutter, “I need some air.” Burst out of the practice room and leave everyone behind. 

Go to the rooftop where you can clear your head best but it keeps reminding you of the nights you spent with him together there, and you can almost feel the burn of his cigarette against your skin even if he’s not here. Try and figure out what he meant. Realize that he, probably, feels the same as you do. Ask yourself why you are such a coward, but don’t beat yourself up over it. Regret not chasing after his lips, wish that you didn’t leave. 

Lose track of time. Maybe you’ve been on the floor of the company rooftop for hours now but still, stay. At one point you hear footsteps behind you, and it’s  _ him.  _ His voice is shaky as he takes one step closer, “Can I sit here?”

Nod. He comes and sits next to you, your knees barely touching. Sit in silence with him for a while, until he speaks up so quietly that you can hardly hear him, “Please tell me that I haven’t been reading this wrong.”

Turn to him. His eyes are swollen and rimmed red. Maybe he had been crying. Say, even if you know what he means, “What do you mean?”

He stays silent. After a while he reaches out to hold your hand in his, let him and this time, take the initiative to intertwine your fingers together. Watch as his face lights up just slightly, but he doesn’t turn to look at you when he says, “The song, it wasn’t about an old movie, was it?”

Laugh. Maybe you’re not as discrete as you wanted to be. Admit quietly, “No.”

“What is it about, then?” He asks, finally turning around to look at you. His eyes are gentle, and he looks at you in the way that made you fall in love in the first place.

Look at him in the eye and say, “You. Is that okay?”

This time, he lets his face light up completely and he smiles at you, eyes crinkling up into crescent moons. His voice comes out as a hushed whisper but no longer shaky, “Yes. That’s very okay, Shinwon-ah.”

Smile down at him. He smiles back. Come to the realisation that it’s probably a good time to kiss him, so do that. Lean down and capture his lips with your own, linger until he kisses back with a contented sigh. His mouth tastes a bit like his menthol cigarettes and you still kind of hate it, but his lip balm is sweet and it makes up for it. Maybe you don’t hate the taste of tobacco that much. Maybe it’s just the taste of him that you like.

He pulls away and loops his arms around you. His head is against your chest and you’re sure that he can feel your heartbeat against his temple, but this time you’re not scared anymore. 

Lean down and press a kiss into his hair. Say, and make sure he feels the weight of every word, “I love you, Hui-hyung.”

He looks up and smiles at you like you’re the only one that matters to him. Maybe you are. “I love you too, Shinwon-ah.”

Stay silent for a while more, until he nudges you a little, “Hey, look. The sun is setting.”

Look. The sun  _ is  _ setting. It paints everywhere warm and orange, and the skies are in pretty pinks and reds and yellows. Hold him close. Decide that you don’t need to fall out of love with him anymore. 

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> hhh that was it um.   
> ps the old movie was vertigo (1958) hence the tag i know one (1) old movie and it's vertigo i also did that in literature class
> 
> leave comments to tell me what u think and give me kudos if u liked it!!!  
> click [here](https://twitter.com/huiwonz) for my twitter if u wanna talk huiwon w me>:]


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